October | 2013 | Drunky Drunk Girl

Archive | October, 2013

Baby steps, or faith in…? Something, at least

10:43 pm

And, sound the trumpets! I pitched my first “real” science story today. I don’t want to get my hopes up, but I’m hoping anyway.

For some reason, I’ve stopped worrying about money this week–the making of it, I mean–and have had a surge of story ideas. The kind of surge I used to have, back when my brain was working, fluid, and open to anything and everything being a possible “story.” I had forgotten about the “fun” part of this job because I’d been so busy killing any and every idea I had before I even gave it a chance. Ideas, any and all, plus the ability to pitch them and then, not care if you’re rejected–that’s the heart of this profession. It’s been a while, as you know.

Drinking. Man. Drinking. What good is it? It fucks with your motivation, your reward system. It messes with your ability to learn. It ruins your powers of concentration, of focus. It zaps your energy, so you feel lacking in determination, in initiative. That “oomph” that I thought was gone for good? That I was SO SURE was never coming back, months and months into my sobriety? It is slowly but surely coming back.

And so is the reality of work. Of sitting down and reading and researching–for hours, days if need be–to at least tease out an idea enough to be able to say, this is (or is not) a story idea that I could research and pitch. Did I not know this was part of a journalist’s job? Sure, I did, but I guess I “forgot.” Conveniently, when it was much easier to drink wine than it was to follow through on any of my ideas with sustained effort. Did I just spend too much time at the recovery fair, so to speak (Joan Didion reference!), that I lost sight of the fact that I am not exempt from hard work? From actual effort? Did I expect it to be handed to me, or was that the byproduct of all the thought-wrangling involved in quitting drinking? Because I’ve spent SO much time figuring out this sobriety thing, don’t I deserve everything else to be easy from here on out? NOT.

I don’t know. But it’s coming back and it feels damn good. Good to actually WANT something again. Friends, it’s been SO long, and I’ve been feeling my way through the dark, existing on hope and dare I say, faith. Faith, yes. Faith that somehow, this shit would improve. Somehow, I would mine an ounce of authentic (as in, not forced) motivation and interest. I’ve been reading lots of science magazines and combing through scientific articles this week, not only being interested, but remaining interested after hours of work. Who is this new person? (I have to say, the sciatica has subsided a lot lately, and that is a huge relief; I really don’t acknowledge just how much my back pain has interfered with my life, do I? Of course, I don’t; this alcoholic loves to think she is supposed to be in pain all day, pretending that it’s not affecting her mood and focus. Sigh.)

I also seem to have some distance now, in the form of a MUCH more solid foundation of self-appraisal as well as perspective on what it means to “succeed” and “fail” in this business–and to take little of it that seriously. To have some fun with this. And, to learn to see when I’m becoming too tunnel-visioned and say, OK, deep breath, it’s not that big of a deal, take a break, think about something else. There’s just…balance here now, in my life. I never had any sort of “balance.” I’d heard a LOT of people talk and read and write about that elusive “balance,” but I could never pin it down and define it for myself.

So, maybe this post is about balance. And baby steps. Being OK with the baby steps, taking them even when I’m afraid or am CONVINCED that they’re too small/going to lead to nowhere fast.

This morning, I was thinking about how things have changed since this time last year. I sat down at my computer and noticed the line of folders stacked up along the left side of my screen–all of them are personal projects. I’ve had so many ideas for so long, but none of my personal writing projects ever got started, let alone worked on enough to even be labeled a project worthy of its own folder on my computer. I drank away my time, out of fear–fear which is with me even as we speak–how on Earth could I ever make any of these things happen?

Now? Lo and behold, I have projects. Some just begun, others being quietly plugged away at. And, I’ve realized that this “getting projects started” thing is very similar to quitting drinking. It’s baby steps, little by little, and it hurts and it feels awkward and painful and “I just can’t do this shit…” And then, you’re doing this shit, and it stops being shit and starts being something that you’re doing, that you CAN do and you WANT to do. For example, freelance writing: initially, for me, lots of blunders, lots of fear. But, every day, that fear goes away, I pitch more, my projects are slowly but surely increasing; the fear of being “found out” for the alcoholic fraud that I am (think I am) is going away. I am no longer a fraud; I am no longer hiding behind a bottle of wine (or inside one, more like it). I am doing the shit now, and the car keeps rolling down the hill. I’ve realized in all this healing and navel-gazing that “failing” is part of the process of moving forward. Failure is not the end. Failure is a node, and things happen at nodes.

I want to be where things are happening.

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, baby steps, binge drinking, change, concentration, drinking, failure, failure is part of the process, faith, fear of failure, focus, freelance life, freelance writing, freelancing, goals, recovery, sober, sobriety, wine, women, work

Comments 12 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Change, Fun, Goals, Recovery, Self-employment, Sobriety, Work, Writing

Letting others take responsibility for…

7 Oct

11:38 pm

Their anger.

Their sadness.

Their confusion.

Their lack of sense of purpose, of self.

Their lack of trust, or faith.

Their joy.

Their “luck.”

Their change, or growth.

Their happiness.

I have been working on an “amends” with my brother for almost two years. Two years over ONE incident in which I blacked out and screamed mean things at him and his girlfriend, mainly at his girlfriend.

The other night, we finally talked. After months, maybe close to a year.

I got the impression that my brother was drunk. It made me smile (in an “oh, the irony” sort of way), and cringe a little. He finally asked a question about my boyfriend, which rubbed me the wrong way anyway (mind you, he’s never before, in the near-two years we’ve been dating, even acknowledge him as being in my life). And, he’s never ONCE asked me about my sobriety, how any of that is going. Not once. Ever. It’s relevant here because, if it was such a big deal, isn’t my getting sober part of that big deal now, too? Or, shouldn’t it be?

I don’t feel that pissed anymore, just sorry. Sorry about what happened, sure, of course. But sorry, too, for them. Sorry that he can’t forge the courage to call his own sister because his girlfriend is telling him he can’t. Sorry that she and he are in a relationship where she fans the flames of his anger and resentments–to match her own, many of which are based in her early-life trauma (psychological problems, incest, rape). Sorry that they don’t have any friends. Sorry that they don’t want any friends. Sorry that they might not see any of this; sorry that they seem to feel the pain that it causes anyway. Is it I who is in pain here, though? Am I unhappy because they seem unhappy to me? (Some of it is that they ARE unhappy; some of it is that I am projecting my own goals and values on them, for better or for worse.)

What I realized in all this is, everyone is responsible for their own happiness. And to grant people that responsibility is you telling them that you have faith in their ability to tackle what I would consider life’s hardest challenge–to live without resistance, i.e., be happy. Me saying I’m sorry a million times, and worrying about whether two “co-dependent” people are going to forgive me–this does me no good. This is meaningless, actually. I don’t have to care about this outcome, and I don’t have to make them happy. I don’t have to worry about whether they’re happy or not.

See, I think I’ve spent a LOT of time in my life not only caring what others think about me, but shouldering–internalizing–their responsibility for their own happiness. For some reason, I feel guilty that my brother, or my mother, or my father, or my boyfriend, or my friend is unhappy. I drank over it, in one way or another. It’s taken a lot of work, actually, to see this tendency to want to please taken to the extreme: the need to solve everyone else’s unhappiness!

Sigh. Deep breath. Like I said, I carry this around, like a burden. It’s so deeply ingrained in me that I’m barely conscious of it–this “ability” to see others’ pain and lack, and then, my habit of not letting that go and leaving them to tend their own gardens. However, when I quit drinking, it was staring me in the face, and there was no way around dealing with it. And, once I started learning how to let go, even forcing myself to “not care,” I became MUCH happier–more balanced, had more time and space to focus on my own self, my healing, tackling of cravings, even probing into deeper mental realms.

Some people don’t like it when you leave them alone, though. They don’t like it when you hand them back their issues and say, Here, this shit is YOURS, bitch (Breaking Bad reference!). It’s a rejection, and an abandonment. I’ve felt that way, actually, when certain friends (and even my brother) have told me to get a handle on my drinking…and then literally disappeared, walked away. I felt abandoned; it was unfair, I felt, and it hurt.

It was the catalyst, though, for me learning to finally stand alone, and take charge. Whether there is anyone to lean on or not. And, I could do it. I CAN do it.

So, this handing back responsibility is also a way for them to say, And, I know you can do it. I have faith in you; I know you can take responsibility for your own happiness. It’s a way for them to say, I can’t do this for you, and you can’t do mine for me–but, hey, that’s life, kiddo. We are ALL responsible for our own happiness.

This is not to say that amends aren’t important. I have to say that I don’t think I would stir the pot in the case of most of the people I’ve hurt and/or offended; it’s over, and revisiting the hurts would cause more damage. I do, however, believe that continual effort on my part to conduct my relationships well, to handle my end of the deal, is key to dissolving any and all remaining bad karma. I guess.

I wasn’t pissed at my brother after hanging up. I wasn’t dubious, or sad, or emotionally changed in any one direction. In fact, I just kind of let it go. So be it, I thought. If they’re still pissed, that’s their problem. Literally. And, problems can be solved. Just with this one, it’s not going to be by me.

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, drinking, family, happiness, healthy relationships, karma, making amends, psychology, recovery, responsibility for own happiness, self-empowerment, sober, sobriety, wine, women

Comments 14 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Amends, Binge drinking, Family, Habits, Issues, Psychology, Recovery, Self-empowerment, Sobriety

Sitting and zoning out, or, this too shall pass

5 Oct

4:49 pm

Just sitting.

And zoning.

And eating cheese quesadillas and vanilla chocolate chip ice cream.

And not doing a whole lot of anything.

I’m baffled as to why my motivation can go from 10 to 1 in a matter of 24 hours, and does this every other 24 hours? I cycle in and out, in and out. Two steps forward, one step back. It is almost 5 pm and I’ve done a total of jack shit. (Part of my frustration is the fact that I remain in search of work, and others are searching, too, and we’re all facing the same, bigger-than-ourselves social problems that just Can’t Be Fixed by four (white) folks who aren’t from here. Sigh. I let it get to me; they seemingly don’t. And, it’s probably frustrating me a LOT more than I’m consciously aware of–which, essentially, is contributing to my feeling helpless, which always makes me want to escape with wine. I am impatient, I guess, and don’t like sitting with frustration=How’s about a glass of wine to “solve” that problem, hmmmmmmm?)

I wonder, is it that I simply don’t have a deep well to draw from anymore, when it comes to motivation, perseverance, and joie de vivre? I mean, staying sober takes a lot of that out of you, and keeps on wringing and wringing. In fact, I’ve read about studies showing that your willpower to resist temptation (drink, food) decreases the more tired out you are from other, mentally-exhausting tasks (think, you’re more apt to chow down on that Snickers if you’ve spent the day doing something mentally exhausting versus if you spent it chilling by the pool). Maybe this is part of getting older? Or, is it that I actually NEED more time off? Maybe I am (and have been, for a while) utterly burnt out, after all these years of overachieving, such that I can find neither interest nor rationale for anything whose main reward is “accomplishment” or “success?” The words ring hollow now, and I can only imagine the actual concepts banging around inside my soul like two empty milk cartons. They hold no weight.

I know I need to stop going against the grain, rest if I need to rest, sleep if I need to sleep, etc. BUT…when do I need to give myself a kick in the rear?

And, I’ve talked about this before, but sometimes I have so little energy/motivation (compared to how I used to feel, before I got sober) that I can’t even be bothered to drink! Sometimes (often?) drinking served as a way to not simply make myself feel better, or happier, or less depressed; but as a way to make myself see that I was trying to make it better. If I was drinking, at least I hadn’t totally given up, right? I was at least TRYING to make things better. I was trying to motivate myself to feel good, and that made me feel like I hadn’t completely given in to the lethargy and depression. Today, even if I wanted to drink, I really can not be bothered to pick up a bottle or even pour the glass. I know it won’t work, and I know, deep down (on day 201 today) that I can’t go back. I can’t go home again when it comes to wine.

I’ve figured out a few things lately, though, that help. One is physical activity. I’m not talking about a run, or a swim, or a walk, but all three, over a 4- or 8-hour period! I’ve often thought that if I could ONLY JUST STAY IN CONSTANT MOTION, then the urge to drink wouldn’t be so strong. This helped early on, and it’s helping me now when it comes to freelance writing: a solid bout of activity, 4 hours let’s say, helps to calm my mind, clears out all the raging thoughts, and allows me to actually sit down and work in a concentrated fashion.

Sooner or later, though, we all have to just sit with it (literally, in my case.) Sit with it when it sucks. I can do that, right? Yes, I can do that. I can have it suck and just sit with it. I have learned how to do that, and that it is much less painful than going out and drinking to avoid the sitting. What makes it easier, by far, is having someone else–a community, as it were–to sit with me! That’s where you guys come in.

For instance, I’ve realized that even IF I don’t get shit done, and I feel bad about it–like my world is crumbling, like it’s the worst thing ever–when I come here, I am reminded that it SO isn’t that bad. There was something so horrible about being hungover alone; it was better to share the burden once in a while with someone else, not that I did that a lot after my college days. Same is true of this sphere: when I come here with my problems and you sit, we sit, through them; I see that they might not be as bad as I thought. None of you are worrying, or freaking out, or telling me that my thoughts justify drinking, so…maybe they actually don’t? It’s an amazing sounding board.

So, now I feel sick. And, my sports bra is too tight. And my sciatica is acting up. And, obviously, my “illness,” which I would consider the extreme mess of thoughts that race through my head on a constant basis, is in full swing. But, I’m sitting here. With you. And we’re not reacting because there is nothing worth reacting to. Nothing to do but wait. And breathe. And know that this too shall pass. And I am still whole. And something got done, actually–I am stronger. For this, I thank you guys.

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, anxiety, binge drinking, community, coping mechanism, coping skills, depression, drinking, frustration, help me carry the load, helplessness, lack of motivation, lack of motivation not drinking, lack of motivation sober, psychology, recovery, sharing the burden, sitting with the craving, sober, sobriety, this too shall pass, triggers, weight of sobriety, wine, women, work

Comments 14 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Anxiety, Binge drinking, Coping mechanisms, Cravings, Depression, Psychology, Recovery, Sobriety, Triggers, Work

Money, physical activity, and gold diggers

3 Oct

8:39 pm

These days, I’ve become so used to such a parade of thoughts and feelings cycling in and out of my head (and heart) that I typically don’t know where to begin on these posts.

Write about what you know, someone smart once said.

I know about money. Well, I know about looking for it…maybe a little bit TOO MUCH. All my life, I’ve been avoiding my creativity with the excuse, But I need to make money. And well, I actually did, and I still do (need to make money). Lately, earning money–looking for work, to be exact–has become my number one stressor! I don’t have enough of it, money. I won’t have enough of it, literally. Yes, that would be me, staring back at you with my “Wachu talkin’ ’bout, Willis?” expression frozen onto my face whenever I hear about someone ELSE starting their own business, writing or otherwise. REALLY? WHY? What I wouldn’t fucking GIVE for a 9-to-5 job these days, somewhere to go where ya tell me what to do, and I do what ya tell me, and then ya pay me. Every two weeks.

Earning money has become my single biggest focus, and stressor. These days, it’s hard for me to even stay motivated for what seems like a neverending job search let alone remain jazzed enough about all the subject matter to ingest and write about it! Not only do I need money, but I need structure. I mean, how do others do it? I wake up anxious, frustrated, and sort of pissed off every morning; I’m so tired of looking for projects, fretting about finding them, pitching stories into black hole-email accounts! Others do it, and do it happily. Or, is that AFTER all the initial startup angst? To wit: it is October 3 and I have approximately 30 days to not only find, but EARN (that means, checks in the mail and/or deposited) $2800. While that doesn’t seem like much, it is. The publication cycle can take months, sometimes YEARS. I know I might be fooling myself and should have found a full-time job a long time ago, but it’s like, if others can do it, why shouldn’t I be able to?

There are so many things going through my head that wouldn’t otherwise be doing so if I wasn’t living here, too. It’s eye-opening to see just how many people are unemployed, or underemployed (ahem). It’s also disheartening to realize that NO ONE gives fuck about us! I mean, it’s easy to ignore the unemployment problem (nationwide, it’s still at about 7.5%) when YOU’RE EMPLOYED. This gets at the heart of a much larger problem which is that people aren’t raised to cooperate, they’re raised to compete. Even on this island–I should say, especially–there are so few jobs relative the the number of people who need and want jobs. I’m not local, and I’m white, so…yeah, it’s more difficult for me for various historical (lingering socioeconomic effects of the slave trade and colonization, to be blunt), social (my qualifications and work ethic might intimidate current employees), and cultural (I don’t have family here, so I don’t have an inside hookup) reasons.

All this should make me want to drink, and it did. It does. Today, it did a little bit.

However, here’s where physical activity comes in! Instead of thinking about drinking, I said, I’m out of here, and went to the beach. I hiked, and swam, and floated, and almost fell asleep in my beach chair. And by the end of it all, four hours later, I felt changed. Cleansed. A shift had occurred and a lot of the negativity had been washed away.

I also met a gold digger on the beach. Kind of literally. A guy who works in gold mining (I’m sure he’s got beaucoup bucks, but he didn’t want to talk much about his “work”). We chatted for a while and after, I realized I was glad. Glad for the connection. Glad for the human contact. Glad he reached out (of course, he did; my bad, but I still shy away from making “the first move” in initiating conversation these days). He’s not “from here,” and he’s new, so he’s able to see all the bad stuff and remind me that no, I’m not imagining things.

And then, I got to come home to an island house, walk two happy dogs, and make my go-to comfort foods du jour: mac and cheese and chana masala (still getting it right, but I figured out that food processing the tomatoes instead of dicing them makes for a much richer sauce).

And then, I wrote this. I feel like I can exhale now. Continue on. If I keep working, everything will turn out OK, worry or not. At least I’m sober, right? YES. All of this would be so much more dramatic and difficult if I was drinking. Do I want to drink? A part of my mind says yes, and that part is irrational and not worth acknowledging, at least tonight.

Happy almost-Friday!

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, anxiety, binge drinking, connection with others, drinking, freelance life, freelance writing, human contact, physical activity, reaching out, recovery, sober, sobriety, underemployed, unemployed, wine, women, work

Comments 4 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Anxiety, Binge drinking, Life, Recovery, Self-employment, Sobriety, Work

Newer Entries →

Search

Drunky Drunk Girl

Baby steps, or faith in…? Something, at least

Letting others take responsibility for…

Money, physical activity, and gold diggers

Hi, it’s DDG!

Follow Blog Via Email

Blogs I Follow

Blogroll

Recent Posts

Archives

Search

Drunky Drunk Girl

Baby steps, or faith in…? Something, at least

Share this:

Letting others take responsibility for…

Share this:

Sitting and zoning out, or, this too shall pass

Share this:

Money, physical activity, and gold diggers

Share this:

Hi, it’s DDG!

Follow Blog Via Email

Blogs I Follow

Blogroll

Recent Posts

Archives

Sitting and zoning out, or, this too shall pass